〃They　want　only　the　lively　stories　of　my　adventures；〃　I　said　to　myself；　and　I　was　at　the　point　of　pushing　my　notes　to　the　edge　of　the　table　where　（had　I　let　go）　they　would　have　fallen　into　the　convenient　oblivion　of　the　waste…basket。　But　something　held　me　back。
  〃No；〃　said　I；　〃I'll　tell　it；　if　it　means　so　much　to　me；　it　may　mean　something　to　the　friends　who　are　following　these　lines。〃
  For；　after　all；　it　is　not　what　goes　on　outside　of　a　man；　the　clash　and　clatter　of　superficial　events；　that　arouses　our　deepest　interest；　but　what　goes　on　inside。　Consider　then　that　in　this　narrative　I　shall　open　a　little　door　in　my　heart　and　let　you　look　in；　if　you　care　to；　upon　the　experiences　of　a　day　and　a　night　in　which　I　was　supremely　happy。
  If　you　had　chanced　to　be　passing；　that　crisp　spring　morning；　you　would　have　seen　a　traveller　on　foot　with　a　gray　bag　on　his　shoulder；　swinging　along　the　country　road；　and　you　might　have　been　astonished　to　see　him　lift　his　hat　at　you　and　wish　you　a　good　morning。　You　might　have　turned　to　look　back　at　him；　as　you　passed；　and　found　him　turning　also　to　look　back　at　youand　wishing　he　might　know　you。　But　you　would　not　have　known　what　he　was　chanting　under　his　breath　as　he　tramped　（how　little　we　know　of　a　man　by　the　shabby　coat　he　wears）；　nor　how　keenly　he　was　enjoying　the　light　airs　and　the　warm　sunshine　of　that　fine　spring　morning。
  After　leaving　the　hill　farm　he　had　walked　five　miles　up　the　valley；　had　crossed　the　ridge　at　a　place　called　the　Little　Notch；　where　all　the　world　lay　stretched　before　him　like　the　open　palm　of　his　hand；　and　had　come　thus　to　the　boundaries　of　the　Undiscovered　Country。　He　had　been　for　days　troubled　with　the　deep　problems　of　other　people；　and　it　seemed　to　him　this　morning　as　though　a　great　stone　had　been　rolled　from　the　door　of　his　heart；　and　that　he　was　entering　upon　a　new　worlda　wonderful；　high；　free　world。　And；　as　he　tramped；　certain　lines　of　a　stanza　long　ago　caught　up　in　his　memory　from　some　forgotten　page　came　up　to　his　lips；　and　these　were　the　words　（you　did　not　know　as　you　passed）　that　he　was　chanting　under　his　breath　as　he　tramped；　for　they　seem　charged　with　the　spirit　of　the　hour：
  I've　bartered　my　sheets　for　a　starlit　bed；　I've　traded　my　meat　for　a　crust　of　bread；　I've　changed　my　book　for　a　sapling　cane；　And　I'm　off　to　the　end　of　the　world　again。
  In　the　Undiscovered　Country　that　morning　it　was　wonderful　how　fresh　the　spring　woods　were；　and　how　the　birds　sang　in　the　trees；　and　how　the　brook　sparkled　and　murmured　at　the　roadside。　The　recent　rain　had　washed　the　atmosphere　until　it　was　as　clear　and　sparkling　and　heady　as　new　wine；　and　the　footing　was　firm　and　hard。　As　one　tramped　he　could　scarcely　keep　from　singing　or　shouting　aloud　for　the　very　joy　of　the　day。
  〃I　think；〃　I　said　to　myself；　〃I've　never　been　in　a　better　country；〃　and　it　did　not　seem　to　me　I　cared　to　know　where　the　gray　road　ran；　nor　how　far　away　the　blue　hills　were。
  〃It　is　wonderful　enough　anywhere　here；〃　I　said。
  And　presently　I　turned　from　the　road　and　climbed　a　gently　sloping　hillside　among　oak　and　chestnut　trees。　The　earth　was　well　carpeted　for　my　feet；　and　here　and　there　upon　the　hillside；　where　the　sun　came　through　the　green　roof　of　foliage；　were　warm　splashes　Of　yellow　light；　and　here　and　there；　on　shadier　slopes；　the　new　ferns　were　spread　upon　the　earth　like　some　lacy　coverlet。　I　finally　sat　down　at　the　foot　of　a　tree　where　through　a　rift　in　the　foliage　in　the　valley　below　I　could　catch　a　glimpse　in　the　distance　of　the　meadows　and　the　misty　blue　hills。　I　was　glad　to　rest；　just　rest；　for　the　two　previous　days　of　hard　labour；　the　labour　and　the　tramping；　had　wearied　me；　and　I　sat　for　a　long　time　quietly　looking　about　me；　scarcely　thinking　at　all；　but　seeing；　hearing；　smellingfeeling　the　spring　morning；　and　the　woods　and　the　hills；　and　the　patch　of　sky　I　could　see。
  For　a　long；　long　time　I　sat　thus；　but　finally　my　mind　began　to　flow　again；　and　I　thought　how　fine　it　would　be　if　I　had　some　good　friend　there　with　me　to　enjoy　the　perfect　surroundingssome　friend　who　would　understand。　And　I　thought　of　the　Vedders　with　whom　I　had　so　recently　spent　a　wonderful　day；　and　I　wished　that　they　might　be　with　me；　there　were　so　many　things　to　be　saidto　be　left　unsaid。　Upon　this　it　occurred　to　me；　suddenly；　whimsically；　and　I　exclaimed　aloud：
  〃Why；　I'll　just　call　them　up。〃
  Half　turning　to　the　trunk　of　the　tree　where　I　sat；　I　placed　one　hand　to　my　ear　and　the　other　to　my　lips　and　said：
  〃Hello；　Central；　give　me　Mr。　Vedder。〃
  I　waited　a　moment；　smiling　a　little　at　my　own　absurdity　and　yet　quite　captivated　by　the　enterprise。
  〃Is　this　Mr。　Vedder？　Oh；　Mrs。　Vedder！　Well；　this　is　David　Grayson。〃　。　。　。　。
  〃Yes；　the　very　same。　A　bad　penny；　a　rolling　stone。〃　。　。　。　。
  〃Yes。　I　want　you　both　to　come　here　as　quickly　as　you　can。　I　have　the　most　important　news　for　you。　The　mountain　laurels　are　blooming；　and　the　wild　strawberries　are　setting　their　fruit。　Yes；　yes；　and　in　the　fieldsall　around　here；　to…day　there　are　wonderful　white　patches　of　daisies；　and　from　where　I　sit　I　can　see　an　old　meadow　as　yellow　as　gold　with　buttercups。　And　the　bobolinks　are　hovering　over　the　low　spots。　Oh；　but　it　is　fine　here　and　we　are　not　together！〃　。　。　。　。
  〃No；　I　cannot　give　exact　directions。　But　take　the　Long　Road　and　turn　at　the　turning　by　the　tulip…tree；　and　you　will　find　me　at　home。　Come　right　in　without　knocking。〃
  I　hung　up　the　receiver。　For　a　single　instant　it　had　seemed　almost　true；　and　indeed　I　believeI　wonder
  Some　day；　I　thought；　just　a　bit　sadly；　for　I　shall　probably　not　be　here　thensome　day；　we　shall　be　able　to　call　our　friends　through　space　and　time。　Some　day　we　shall　discover　that　marvellously　simple　coherer　by　which　we　may　better　utilize　the　mysterious　ether　of　love。
  For　a　time　I　was　sad　with　thoughts　of　the　unaccomplished　future；　and　then　I　reflected　that　if　I　could　not　call　up　the　Vedders　so　informally　I　could　at　least　write　down　a　few　paragraphs　which　would　give　them　some　faint　impression　of　that　time　and　place。　But　I　had　no　sooner　taken　out　my　note…book　and　put　down　a　sentence　or　two　than　I　stuck　fast。　How　foolish　and　feeble　written　words　are　anyway！　With　what　glib　facility　they　describe；　but　how　inadequately　they　convey。　A　thousand　times　I　have　thought　to　myself；　〃　If　only　I　could　WRITE！〃
  Not　being　able　to　write　I　turned；　as　I　have　so　often　turned　before；　to　some　good　old　book；　trusting　that　I　might　find　in　the　writing　of　another　man　what　I　lacked　in　my　own。　I　took　out　my　battered　copy　of　Montaigne　and；　opening　it　at　random；　as　I　love　to　do；　came；　as　luck　would　have　it；　upon　a　chapter　devoted　to　coaches；　in　which　there　is　much　curious　（and　worthless　information；　darkened　with　Latin　quotations。　This　reading　had　an　unexpected　effect　upon　me。
  I　could　not　seem　to　keep　my　mind　down　upon　the　printed　page；　it　kept　bounding　away　at　the　sight　of　the　distant　hills；　at　the　sound　of　a　woodpecker　on　a　dead　stub　which　stood　near　me；　and　at　the　thousand　and　one　faint　rustlings；　creepings；　murmurings；　tappings；　which　animate　the　mystery　of　the　forest。　How　dull　indeed　appeared　the　printed　page　in　comparison　with　the　book　of　life；　how　shut…in　its　atmosphere；　how　tinkling　and　distant　the　sound　of　its　voices。　Suddenly　I　shut　my　book　with　a　snap。
  〃Musty　coaches　and　Latin　quotations！〃　I　exclaimed。　〃Montaigne's　no　writer　for　the　open　air。　He　belongs　at　a　study　fire　on　a　quiet　evening！〃
  I　had　anticipated；　when　I　started　out；　many　a　pleasant　hour　by　the　roadside　or　in　the　woods　with　my　books；　but　this　was　almost　the　first　opportunity　I　had　found　for　reading　（as　it　was　almost　the　last）；　so　full　was　the　present　world　of　stirring　events。　As　for　poor　old　Montaigne；　I　have　been　out　of　harmony　with　him　ever　since；　nor　have　I　wanted　him　in　the　intimate　case　at　my　elbow。
  After　a　long　time　in　the　forest；　and　the　sun　having　reached　the　high　heavens；　I　gathered　up　my　pack　and　set　forth　again　along　the　slope　of　the　hillsnot　hurrying；　just　drifting　and　enjoying　every　sight　and　sound。　And　thus　walking　I　came　in　sight；　through　the　trees；　of　a　glistening　pool　of　water　and　made　my　way　straight　toward　it。
  A　more　charming　spot　I　have　rarely　seen。　In　some　former　time　an　old　mill　had　stood　at　the　foot　of　the　little　valley；　and　a　ruinous　stone　dam　still　held　the　water　in　a　deep；　quiet　pond　between　two　round　hills。　Above　it　a　brook　ran　down　through　the　woods；　and　below；　with　a　pleasant　musical　sound；　the　water　dripped　over　the　mossy　stone　lips　of　the　dam　and　fell　into　the　rocky　pool　below。　Nature　had　long　ago　healed　the　wounds　of　men；　she　had　half…covered　the　ruined　mill　with　verdure；　had　softened　the　stone　walls　of　the　dam　with　mosses　and　lichens；　and　had　crept　down　the　steep　hillside　and　was　now　leaning　so　far　out　over　the　pool　that　she　could　see　her　reflection　in　the　quiet　water。
  Near　the　upper　end　of　the　pond　I　found　a　clear　white　sand…bank；　where　no　doubt　a　thousand　fishermen　had　stood；　half　hidden　by　the　willows；　to　cast　for　trout　in　the　pool　below。　I　intended　merely　to　drink　and　moisten　my　face；　but　as　I　knelt　by　the　pool　and　saw　my　reflection　in　the　clear　water　wanted　something　more　than　that！　In　a　moment　I　had　thrown　aside　my　bag　and　clothes　and　found　myself　wading　naked　into　the　water。
  It　was　cold！　I　stood　a　mom